I wanted to write something about becoming fifty when it actually happened, back at the beginning of October. But October’s been like a berth on a clipper crossing the Pacific sometime around when my grandfather was born (1857). October, an uncomfortable bunk in the year 2016, one of the ships sailing me through time. Years can be like boats. There are many non-scientific ways of thinking about time travel: friendships, lives, things which have happened and the echoes or ripples that carry forward.
Afterwardsness … I’m not particularly fond of Freud as a psychologist, not in the prescriptive sense of x + y = neurosis z, as some might have him, but as someone who thought about life I find him irresistible. His notion of nachträglichkeit, often translated as ‘afterwardsness’ might be one of the best boats of all.
Sailing on, I’d like to mention a discovery I made today. I was reading about the wonderful Jean Laplanche (who appears, incidentally, in Agnes Varda’s film ‘The Gleaners and I’ talking about winemaking and psychoanalysis), whose thoughts about the enigmatic signifier I may owe much of a career to, when I cam upon a startling reference to a seminar he gave in Kent in 1990. I was startled because as far as anyone connected to my training at the University of Kent was concerned, Laplanche was a non-person, not even a mystery, but one of those figures teachers and trainers seem never to have heard of. I shrugged, inwardly and outwardly, but always felt this unawareness was a little like the kind of unawareness we each sometimes cultivate in relation to a kind of tricky problem. Laplanche was joint editor of what’s become the standard encyclopaedia of psychoanalysis and, internationally, a figure something like The Pet Shop Boys might be to anyone with an interest in music (Orthodox Psychoanalysis, for all of its all its apparent esotericism, has something of the spirit of Take That).
And there, as I read about Jean Laplanche, was a reference to a paper, ‘Psychoanalysis, Time and Translation’ delivered in 1990 to the first year of students completing my then newly established training. Laplanche wrote a book called ‘New Foundations of Psychoanalysis’ and there he was, in at the start, the foundations, of a training that later seemed incapable of recognising him.
There’s a story in all this, if I ever get the time to look into it.
I mention it here in relation to my becoming 50 not specifically out of pique but to show maybe something of what I mean by echoes and ripples from the past. I find something out and it seems to be an intersecting, me and Laplanche catching up somehow … somehow.
If you read me much you’ll know I tend to think a lot of things come to us indirectly, rather like the ball in a pinball machine. I used to play one of those at a caravan park near Newhaven where the ball even went down a hole later to appear randomly from one of many other holes in the machine. In life we don’t see the paddles or the curves of pins; or the strange electronic mushrooms or the jump pads (I imagine there are more correct technical terms). Sometimes we can’t even see the arc or the angle of something as it approaches: it simply lands.
I began by saying I wanted to write something about being 50, but it seems that’s still on its way.